Always
by FoodForThought2127
Summary: D/H slash. Don't Like? Don't read. "Your mind is on one thing only-person, really. Harry Potter. The man who visits your dreams and haunts your every thought...Because two weeks ago, he did something...he gave you...a kiss." Reviews are all I ask for :3


**A/N: Alright. This is my first Drarry fic EVER. So don't be too harsh on me :3 I don't know if this is any good or not, but if you could leave a review that'd be great. Because reviews are like Marshmallows to me :D oh, and flamers BEWARE, I will be a bitch if I have too ;D**

_**ANYWHO! **_**I hope you enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: Obviously, I'm not J.K Rowling, I just use her characters as my playthings ;D All rights belong to her, but the plot belongs to me.**

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><p><strong><em>Always<em>**

by YaoiFreak2127

You weave your way through crowds of bustling witches and wizards. You don't care for _them_, though. Your mind is on one thing only-person, really. Harry Potter. The man who visits your dreams and haunts your every thought. You can't shake him from your brain. Why? Because two weeks ago, he did something-something that was seared into your memory forever. He gave you a kiss. And you remember it clearly. It was passion fueled, lustful, you were almost burned by the fire that was set aflame because of it.

_You were pushing your way through the crowds at the Ministry, your mind set on getting out of your Auror turn the corner and head for the floo. You notice now that there is hardly anyone around. You don't find this as odd as you would have normally, considering that it was still early. You're launched from your musings when you hear someone call your name. You turn around, expecting to find Blaise or Pansy. You even consider it being Hermione for a moment, because you two became friends during the war. But you soon realize that it is, in fact, not one of your friends, but Harry pause your steps. Why is he calling your name? Had you forgotten something? You knew that Potter was Head Auror and oversaw everything, but you made sure that everything was in order before you left. Then..what could he possibly want with you?_

_He finally catches up to you, and the first words out of your mouth are, "Potter, is there something you want?" He smirks, which confuses you._

_"Yes, actually. There is something I want." He tugs on your robes, signaling you to stop._

_You take a moment to drink him in. His radiant green eyes were no longer hidden by the hideous glasses that besmirched his face throughout Hogwarts. He got an eye correction or something. You don't find it in you to care all that much. His hair is still as shaggy and unkempt as ever, but his hair is now styled in a way that makes him have the 'I've just shagged' look. He grew taller after the final battle and filled out nicely. He's actually not that bad-Malfoy! What are you doing thinking of Harry Potter in such a way? What would Pansy say? You snort mentally. She'd probably jump for joy at the thought of you finally finding someone good-looking. She'd always been your best friend, right along with Blaise, and they were the first to find out about your...preferences. Seems like Potter never got the memo. Smirk. While you're thinking, Potter has somehow strutted his way closer to you. He's now inches apart. And you're getting uncomfortable._

_"Potter, what do you think you're doing?" You see a mischievous glint cross his eyes. And now you have your guard up. This is Harry Potter. He's unpredictable. You never know-and your thoughts are interrupted again by Potter. But this time it's because he's kissing you. And you're so shocked that you can't even bring yourself to respond. He pulls away, smirks and walks away, with a quick "I'll see you around, Malfoy," thrown over his shoulder._

_He left you standing in the deserted hallway, shell shocked, with your fingers gently pressed against your still tingling lips._

And now you're on the hunt. On the hunt for_ him_. This is your area of expertise. You enjoy a hunt. Love to solve a mystery. Because it always keeps you on your toes. Just like he does. You see a flash of shaggy black hair that could only belong to the Golden Boy. It passes you quickly, snapping you back to reality. You see it walk out the front doors. You follow it.

You're walking down a street. It's mostly empty, sans a few muggles here and there. You see him move briskly, as though he were in a hurry. But to where? Was he going to meet someone? Had he…already forgotten? You shake the thought from your head. No. He wasn't. He hadn't forgotten, he_ couldn't_ have. You were so caught up in your own thoughts that you didn't see the sly smirk that sojourned his facial features. But your senses caught the light sound of laughter that passed his lips. And you know. You know that he has you right where he wants you. It was a trap. And you walked right into it. Just like a bloody _Gryffindork_ would. You're pissed that the Slytherin rudiments and tactics that were drilled into you since birth have escaped you completely; no sneakiness, or cunning left in you at the moment.

He turns around and grins, brandishing his wand. You control your horror as you hear him shout, "_Confundus_!" You're momentarily confused. Your mind is foggy. You don't understand what's happening until you feel something-someone-grab your arm.

You vaguely recognize that he's using Side-Along Apparation. But you are acutely aware of the fact that Potter has you by the arm, and it doesn't seem as though he's going to be releasing you anytime soon.

The charm has already started to wear off and you finally take the time to realize where you are. You finally conclude…that you have no clue as to where Potter has landed you. Lovely. All you know is that it's quiet, eerily so. There's not another soul in sight except for you...and Potter. This day is just turning out to be a little more dangerous than you first thought. As you look around, you finally come to a more detailed conclusion. You're in…a house? But…when the bloody hell did you get there? As you stand there pondering, you also realize that Potter has his gaze trained on you.

He stands before you, placidly-unnervingly so. You try to subdue the panic that has risen in your chest. How do you always manage to get yourself in the most absurd situations? And now you're screwed. Utterly, and totally screwed. You're in the Lion's Den. The Enemy's Territory. You're Alone. With him.

His hand is still gripping your arm painfully.

Oh, this can't possibly get any worse.

It does.

He starts walking around you. Prowling is more like it. He watches you circumspectly, as though waiting for you to lash out. As though he were the predator and you…the prey. While he analyzes you, you allow yourself to quickly scan his person. He hasn't changed. But, what were you expecting? You try to keep a blank façade so he won't see the panic and anxiety waiting there.

But he already knows.

He_ always_ knows.

And you hear his strong, velvety voice whisper to you. "Were you following me, Malfoy?" You stifle gasp at the way his voice seems to twist the words into a dark melody. You keep silent. You aren't going to speak a word.

A dark chuckle escapes the Boy-Who-Lived.

"Not going to speak to me, are you?" He stands behind you, so close that your back is almost against his chest, but even that inch of space feels like miles to you. You feel his breath tickle your ear. "I have other methods of getting you to talk,_ Draco_."

This time you aren't quick enough to cover the gasp. He spoke your name. Your_ first_ name. Something you never thought would fall from those pink lips.

And then the meaning behind those words sink in.

And you feel a rush of heat color your face. A tinge of pink is probably dusted across your cheeks. You're blushing. You're mortified. Because Potter is the only one who has ever made you lose control of yourself.

Indignant feelings swirl through your already foggy mind. How dare he? The blush fades away. You stand a little bit straighter and look him in the eyes. You see his eyes flash with an unknown emotion-challenge, maybe? But you still choose to stay silent. And he continues.

"Oh, _Draco_. Something wrong? Don't wish to speak to me, do you? That's just _to_. _Damn_. _Bad_." You gulp. And fear is now weaving its way through your system. Because Potter doesn't play. He never has.

He roughly grabs you and slams you into a hard surface. A wall.

And somehow he has you pressed to the wall, with his hands gripping your collar. And you're struggling to escape his clutches. You're furious that you've been cornered. Malfoys Don't Get Cornered. Malfoys Don't Blush. Malfoys Don't Show Fear. Malfoys Don't Do a lot of things, like follow the Savior of the Wizarding World.

While you pause your inner ramblings, Ha-Potter is just smirking at you. That presumptuous _bastard_. Your carefully placed mask falls. And you snarl out, "Get your hands_ off of me, Potter_." His smirk widens to a Cheshire cat worthy grin.

He snorts at your attempt at being menacing. Obviously, being a Malfoy hasn't taught you shit.

"Oh, no. I quite like where my hands are thank you." You cease your movements as his grip loosens and you feel his hands trailing to the side of your torso.

"Potter, _stop_." He continues, looking directly at you while he continues molesting your side in a way that really should be considered illegal. But now you're getting scared. Because, what if you can't stop him? You aren't ready. You should've never followed him in the first place. This is all your fault. You're getting panicky now and you still feel the pressure of his fingertips as he trails them lower, and lower and...lower. He's getting closer to...there...and you can't handle it anymore.

"Wait, this isn't-I mean-Wait-stop it-_Harry_!" His ministrations come to an abrupt halt. You inwardly breathe a sigh of relief.

He looks at you with formidable awe.

"You said my name." You control the urge to roll your eyes.

"Well,_ congratulations_. You know your name." Sarcasm dripped from every word.

He violently grabbed you and slammed your back into the wall.

And_ fuck_ if it didn't hurt.

Mocking him was a stupid decision. One look at the feral look in his eyes told you that.

"I wouldn't mock me if I were you, _Malfoy_." he growled.

You hope that there's still enough Gryffindor in him to stop him from killing you. Maiming and severely injuring is apparently perfectly fine with the Gryffindor, though.

You manage to spit out, "Back to last names, are we, _Harry_?"

His eyes narrow, and you feel yours mirror his.

He gets in your face. Just a breath away from kissing you. Your breath hitches. He lets out a low chuckle. But you still want him. It's always been him.

"You always did know how to rile me up, _Draco_."

And then he kisses you. And you can't seem to remember why you _ever _protested against this. His lips are rough, calloused from chewing on them in concentration, but you've never felt lips _so soft_. His breath is warm, and it makes you shiver. His tongue traces your bottom lip, seeking entrance. And you grant it, because really, why wouldn't you? Isn't this what you came for? To get him to kiss you again? He bites and licks and sucks. Someone moans, but you don't care to find out which of you it was. You're pouring every ounce of yourself into this kiss. Your frustration. Your hate. Your loneliness. Your desire. Your lust. Your love. Your tongues battle for dominance.

He wins.

He _always_ wins.

Somehow, you're hands have woven themselves into black silky locks, and you're pulling and tugging on it. You've lost. You've lost, but you find that you don't care. Not in the slightest.

Tugging. Pulling. Pain. Pleasure. And then it's over.

He stops kissing you.

You sag against him in defeat. Your head is buried in between his shoulder blades.

You feel him try to control his ragged breathing and you smirk, because you know that _you _caused the breathlessness. He lifts your head from his shoulder.

"Draco." You stay still. Not wanting it to end, but not wanting him to continue, either.

But he does anyways.

Because he _can. _

Part of you hopes that he won't reject you like he did first year, and part of you hopes that if he does, it won't matter.

But it does.

It _always _does.


End file.
